Snakescale and Spiderstring
by Lamia of the Dark
Summary: Voldemort struggles to understand Bellatrix's emotional needs as he tries to comfort her after the events of Glass Houses. Oneshot. A different version of As Blood Calls.


**DISCLAIMER: All things Harry Potter belong to J.K. Rowling.**

**A/N: Fixed! I was not happy with the way "As Blood Calls" turned out, but I've decided to leave that one up. This version has a very different middle and ending. The title is a reference to "throwing stones", the poem that goes with this series.**

**Excessively Complex, this one's for you.**

**Silver, I stole a line from Shades.**

-- Snakescale and Spiderstring --

I wake to the sensation of scales sliding against my face. Annoyed, I push Nagini off the bed.

_Bad snake_, I hiss in Parseltongue.

I feel Bella shifting beside me and realize that I've woken her.

"Good morning," I say softly.

"Good morning, my lord," she mumbles, sounding like she is still half-asleep. Then, realizing where she is, her eyes snap open and she stares at me. It is morning and we are both still dressed in the clothes we wore the day before. As this realization sinks in, I watch her expression slowly sadden.

I have never seen someone look so broken.

She has been betrayed by those closest to her. I am the only person that she still trusts. I am all that she has left to cling to. If I were to hurt her now, she would be completely destroyed. This thought shakes me. I have never been good at being gentle...

In a hushed whisper she says, "Yesterday was real."

"It... does not have to be," I say slowly, fingering my wand.

"Even if you erase my memory, it doesn't change the truth," she replies bitterly. "Could you stop me from finding out again? And from finding out that I'd found out before and couldn't face the truth?"

I know she means it as a rhetorical question, but I answer anyway. "I could not do that without killing you. Or them." I pause. "Do you _want_ me to kill him?"

"_No_." I am surprised by the vehemence of her answer. Surely she can't possibly be harboring any affectionate feelings for her husband after what he's done to her... "He deserves to suffer." Her voice is a whisper but her tone is pure poison.

"Yes, he does," I say and without thinking about what I am doing, I lean down and place a chaste kiss on her forehead. I think about it afterward and wish I _hadn't_ done it. I sigh. _This is going to be a long day, so first things first_.

I stand and walk to the closet.

While I am trying to decide what to wear, Bella comes to stand beside me.

"I don't have any clean clothes," she says, fidgeting nervously. I get the distinct impression that she doesn't want to go back to her own room and risk running into Rodolphus. She isn't sure how to act around him anymore. Especially since he will still be trying to pretend that he loves her, seeing as how he doesn't know that she has discovered his secret.

I find a white dress mixed in among my clothes and present it to her. "What about this?"

She looks at it and makes a face. "Was that even mine?"

"Perhaps not," I concede. "But it is here, and you need something to wear." And, without giving her a chance to argue further, I wave my wand and the white dress changes places with what she is wearing. I quickly change my own clothes as well.

When I turn around, I see that Bella is staring at herself in the mirror with an unpleasant expression on her face. I walk up behind her and wrap my arms around her waist.

"That dress looks good on you," I say, unable to keep the exasperation I feel from creeping into my voice. "What do you think is wrong with it?"

Bella leans back against my chest and I close my arms more tightly around her, enjoying the physical (but nonsexual) pleasure of the sensation.

"It's white," she says.

"You look just as beautiful in any color," I say, pressing a soft kiss to the top of her head, trying to placate her. "Everything you wear doesn't have to be black." Although I must admit, I've hardly seen her wear anything that _isn't_ black. "When is the last time you wore a white dress?"

As soon as the question is out of my mouth, I realize it is the wrong thing to say. I know the answer before she says it.

"At my wedding."

Unfortunately, that seems to be the answer to several other questions she doesn't really want to think about. Predominantly among them: _When was the last time your husband kissed you on the mouth?_

She turns around in my arms and buries her face against my shoulder. There is an odd catch in her breathing pattern, as if she is struggling to keep from crying. I place my hand between her shoulder blades and stroke her back in what I hope is a comforting manner.

This is what I get for trying to be nice without ever having done it before. I know how to seduce women. I have plenty of experience in _that_ area. But I have never attempted to maintain a relationship over any period of time and I very obviously lack the necessary skills for it.

Inspiration strikes me, and I trail my fingers lightly down her spine, casting a simple spell.

Bella feels the ripple of magic and lifts her head to look at me questioningly.

"Turn around," I say softly.

She turns and catches sight of herself in the mirror. I've changed the color of the dress to palest silver. It suits her much better than white. Or perhaps it is the small smile she now favors me with that colors my judgment on the matter.

I slide my arms around her waist once more, and she leans back into the embrace.

"Why are you being so sweet to me?" she asks softly.

"Because you need me to," I answer carefully. It is not _entirely_ a lie.

"No," she says sharply, frowning. "I don't need you to do that."

Another lie. It is exactly what she needs. But she does not _desire_ it, because it goes against the cold and cruel nature that she so admires in me.

"Bella," I say her name softly in just the way that she likes. I feel some of the tension ease from her body. I strengthen my embrace and tell her firmly, "I am going to help you through this." My tone leaves no room for argument.

It's as obvious from the look on her face as it would be if I were actually reading her thoughts: she is starting to realize that I have decided to take care of her and she is thinking that perhaps I am not completely heartless after all, that maybe I hold some small affection for her...

And suddenly her expression hardens. Her mind has turned to revenge. She is over the initial shock of the betrayal. She will not shed another tear for all the years stolen from her by her worthless husband.

My strong sadistic Bella is back.

-end-

**A/N: I know I had him commenting on her facial expressions when she had her back to him, but please remember that they were standing in front of a mirror during that scene.**

**A/N: If I write many more of these, I'm going to be insisting that people call ME Lord Voldemort... which will be made weirder by the fact that I'm female. That said, there will be at least one more sequel.**

**Reviews: love. **


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